Westeros Best Kept Secret
by SweetEnigma
Summary: "You are so annoying!" She shouted. "You are so annoying!" He mocked before giving her that smirk, she'd give anything to smack that look clear off his face. Jaime/OC Rated M for language and adult situations. Non-canon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: This is my very first GOT story, so please be kind. It will NOT follow canon at all. **

"My lady, a raven came for you." The voice of her protector sounded from the doorway.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she stood from her seat at the window and gestured for the note. "Bring it to me, Brienne. I must know what the little ankle biter has written last time."

"As you wish, my lady. " Brienne approached her, handing her the letter with the familiar seal still intact.

"Thank you. And I have already asked you to call my Guinevere or simply Gwen." The woman gave Brienne a warm smile before breaking the seal on the later. Blue eyes scan the contents of the later and her smile curves into a smirk.

"Is it good news, my-I mean Guinevere?"

Guinevere handed her the letter, brushing her hands over her shirt. "We're going home, my darling protector." The smirk never left her lips.

"It says-"

"I know what it says, and we're going home."

Brienne nodded and set about packing her lady's clothes.

Guinevere smirked, blue eyes practically shining at the prospect of returning to her home. 'Oh, are they going to be surprised.' She thought, a small laugh bubbling up. She waved Brienne away when the lady knight looked over at her.

It took a fortnight to secure a ship and to have their stuff moved onto the ship.

"Are you going to miss this place, my lady?"

Guinevere turned her head, smiling up at Brienne. "Not even in the slightest." Tyrosh was a very large and loud place, the people wearing colors so bright that it made her head ache most of the time. "I will miss the brandy though." The pear-brandy was just about the only good thing about Tyrosh. She noticed Brienne stifling a laugh. "Will you miss it?"

The lady knight shook her head. "No I will not, my lady." It was quiet for a while, both women preoccupied with their thoughts.

Guinevere thought back to the letter the Imp had sent her.

' _What's a stag without a right hand? It should seem that the stag is on the hunt for the wolf.  
Will the young wolf meet with the lion at the crossroads?'_

The Imp was hilarious indeed.

Nearly a month passed before the saw the shores of her homeland. "Oh but it is most joyous to be back on familiar soil."

"Perhaps you should change, my lady."

"Not just yet. We must go meet with him."

The women rode on horses –given to the by people at an inn they stopped at. It took them two days to reach the crossroads, and there was the Imp.

"You are a right loon, you know that?" Were Guinevere's first words.

Tyrion laughed loudly, nodding his head. "Of course I know this. How could one not be a loon with a family like mine?" He bowed as she climbed down off the horse and towered over him. "As always, it is quite a pleasure to see you, my lady."

"Not as pleasurable as seeing the whores you so adore, I'm sure." Her lips curved into a sweet smile.

"Oh how you make me laugh, my lady," Tyrion then cleared his throat. "Now on to business."

"Right," Guinevere nodded her head. "The king is going to ask Ned to be his right hand?"

"Yes he is." Tyrion nodded. "I'm quite afraid for him, my lady. Kings Landing has a way of changing people."

Guinevere snorted, rolling her eyes. "If you think that Kings Landing could in any way change Ned, then you are not only an Imp –you are also mentally touched."

"Whatever you say, my lady." He then paused and looked around Guinevere to gaze up at Brienne. "Who is this brute?"

"That brute is Brienne of Tarth, and you will do well to respect her."

"I meant no disrespect, my ladies." Tyrion bowed once again.

"All I care for if the respect and the opinion of Lady Guinevere –yours doesn't matter, Imp."

"Calm down, Brienne."

"Yes my lady."

Shaking her head, Guinevere regarded Tyrion for a few moments. "Does anyone know I'm here?"

"I've said nothing."

"Good. I wish to surprise everyone."

"Surprises are quite interesting."

_**A/N: Please be kind! The next chapter, we learn new things of our lady Guinevere. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

The look that was on her face was one that caused the Imp and Lady Knight to groan. They both knew that from that look alone that she was up to something –what it was, neither of them knew.

"Are you absolutely sure no one knows?" She asked, her tone further proving that she was up to something.

"I am quite sure, Lady Guinevere." Tyrion nodded, watching her with a cautious look on his face.

"Then let's go surprise them."

"My lady, now would be the time for you to change into the appropriate attire." Brienne said, watching her with a cautious look also on her face.

"My attire is perfectly appropriate." Guinevere smiled, before glancing down at herself. She was wearing a pair of breeches and a tunic along with boots. Tilting her head back up, she brushed a dark lock of her hair out of her face. "But if you would help my tie back this mass of insanity, it would be most appreciated."

Over the last few years that Brienne and Guinevere had known each other, Guinevere had taught the lady knight many a things that ladies do –like how to style hair, cook and sew, and in return, Brienne taught her how to fight –and she was quite good at it too. She had also picked up Brienne's hatred for wearing female clothing –only doing so when absolutely necessary.

"As you wish, my lady." Brienne came up behind her and put a few braids in her hair before tying them together so that Guinevere's bangs weren't in her face.

"Thank you, ma'am." Guinevere smiled before turning to Tyrion, that look back on her face. "You will sneak us into Winterfell."

"And how does my lady propose I do that?" He asked, raising a brow.

"There's another entrance into Winterfell. You will cause a distraction long enough for us to sneak in."

"Why do you wish your return to be secret?"

Guinevere raised a brow, bending so she could look him in the face. "Because, my darling little ankle biter, if they know I'm back right away, they will send me away again –and we certainly cannot have that." She stood back to her full height, which was maybe a few heads taller than Tyrion. Brushing her hands over her tunic, she regarded him.

"What makes you think they won't send you away even if you sneak inside?"

"I don't." She said simply.

"Then-"

"Stop questioning her, Imp." Brienne commanded, blue eyes glaring down at the half man.

Guinevere smirked and Tyrion nodded his head.

"Let us sneak you in, my lady."

The women mounted their horses and took off for Winterfell with Tyrion following. They split up at before they could be seen, the women going around to the back entrance while Tyrion entered Winterfell.

The women shared a look before nodding. They tied up their horses and walked to the secret door, Brienne watching for anyone coming. The door was very old, and looked much like a godswood tree with the face that looked as if it were crying tears of blood. Guinevere pulled a dagger out of her waistband, slicing open her palm and sliding her hands into the open mouth of the door. It gave a groan before it opened. Pulling her hand free, she turned to Brienne and flashed the woman a grin before the women headed through the door.

"What is this place, my lady?"

"Call me Guin." She insisted, shaking her head_. _"This place is a secret escape route –or entrance. Only certain people can open the door."

"…Interesting."

It was certainly most interesting. The door led through the hot-springs that warmed Winterfell, and down through the crypt.

Once they reached the crypt, they could hear voices coming. Both of them shared a look before hiding behind a statue –which turned out to be one of Lyanna Stark. Both women held their breaths as the voices came closer, their eyes wide and fearful. They couldn't be found so soon.

"She was more beautiful than this damn statue. Ah, damn it, Ned. Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She deserved more than this darkness…"

"It's what she wanted, Robert."

"She deserved more than being kept in this shithole."

"It was her wishes."

"We have business to discuss, gentlemen."

Guinevere furrowed her brows at the voices, looking at Brienne. She held her finger up, telling the lady knight to remain quiet.

"Another Lannister, always on my ass."

"What business are you talking about, Lord Tywin?"

"The betrothal of my son and your sister."

At that, Guinevere stepped out from behind the statue, causing all three men to jump and scream –much like a woman would. "Over my dead body." No way was she marrying Tyrion, the little imp was too much of a man-whore and she'd be damned if she was going to marry that man.

"What in the seven hells are you doing here!?" Ned and Robert demanded in unison, before Ned pulling her into a hug, causing her to laugh as she embraced her brother for the first time in almost a decade.

"I've come home, darling brothers." She pressed a kiss to Ned's cheek before they released each other.

"Why?"

"It should seem that you are to be the hand of the king, and I just could not miss it." She paused, glaring at all three men. "I will not marry that Imp."

Lord Tywin laughed, a sound that gave her the creeps. "It would not be Tyrion you would marry, my lady."

Guinevere raised a brow, crossing her arms. "Then what son do you mean?" She paused, seeing the looks on all of their faces. Her own eyes narrowed. "You mean the kingslayer?" At that, she started to laugh.

"Why are you dressed as a man?" Ned shook his head.

"It's most comfortable."

"Hiding your womanly figure with that outfit." Robert shook his head, a sigh escaping him.

"Back to this business of you all planning to marry me off to the Kingslayer." Guinevere had her hands on her hips now, a glare on her pretty face. "I will not do it."

"You have no say in this, girl." Lord Tywin said. "It will happen, because the king so wishes it."

Her grey eyes flickered to Robert, a frown on her face.

"Walk with me." The king held his arm out for her, smiling when she looped her arm through his. They both walked away from Tywin and Ned, out to the courtyard. Once there, they both embraced each other in a hug before releasing each other. "You look so much like her…"He sighed, shaking his head.

"I know…" She sighed, before looking him in the eyes. "Why are you trying to make me marry that man?"

The king sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I do not want him in the Kingsguard any longer." At her curious look, he continued. "There are far too many Lannister's in Kings Landing as it is. Were he to be released from the guard and marry you, he would once again be Tywin's heir and allowed to return home."

"So you pawn me off to the lion's just to have one less in your midst's?" She sighed. "I am quite saddened that you would do that to me." Perhaps she should have stayed in Tyrosh –at least she was not being forced to get married there.

"You do not want a husband?"

"I never have."

"How can you say such a thing?"

"Marriage has never been a want of mine. I have seen countless marriages and the woman is treated poorly –the man cheats, or beats her. I do not want that to be my fate."

The king grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the back off it. "I would not allow a man to beat you."

Guinevere gave him a small smile before glancing around and noticing for the first time that they had an audience.

"Mind your own business!" The king shouted, seeing the crowd also. They all dispersed, and he turned back to her. "Would you consider it?"

"Perhaps…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

"My lady." Brienne called from behind, causing both King Robert and Guinevere to turn.

"What is it, Brienne?"

"I was just coming to check on you." The lady knight said, hands clasped behind her back. "Your grace, forgive me for being so rude." She bowed to the king.

"Did you just bow?" The king chuckled.

"Forgive me, your grace; I never did learn to curtsy."

"It's quite alright, my lady."

Guinevere smiled at her, pleased that Brienne was so polite to a man for once. She then turned to see the King looking at Brienne speculatively. "Is there something wrong, your grace?"

"What is that?" He pointed to Brienne's armor.

The two women shared a look before Guinevere cleared her throat. "It's the sigil for the House of The Blue Rose." It took only a few moments for the King's eyes to widen. _So he's heard of it, _she thought, fighting a smirk.

"Are you serious?"

"I am quite serious, your grace."

"What are you doing out of Tyrosh?" He demanded.

Guinevere stepped between Brienne and the King, her hand resting on her sword. "Brienne is my personal guard, your grace. She means no harm, so please calm yourself."The king took a few breaths, causing her to smile. "Are you well now, your grace?"

"I am fine, girl." The king rubbed his face. "Seven hells, how did you get mixed in with this?"

"You and Eddard sent me away to Tarth –Brienne is the only living child of Lord Selwyn Tarth. She befriended me and once Lord Tarth decided that Brienne was not to be married, he sent her away."She glanced up at her friend before looking back at the king. "I followed her –I knew I was much safer with her, for she is much more skilled than any swordsman in all the seven kingdoms."

The king watched them both, eyes narrowed. "I've heard the stories of you, woman. Taking down men left and right –Brienne the Beauty."

Guinevere reached behind her, grasping Brienne's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze as the king used the hated nickname. "She does not do so unless they swing at her first, I assure you, your grace."

"If you say so, Lady Guinevere." The king muttered before raising a hand and waving it. "I must talk business with Tywin and Ned. I'll see you at the feast." He turned and headed for where the two men in question were standing –they looked to be in a heated discussion.

Guinevere released Brienne's hand and turned, gazing up at the woman who stood several heads taller than her. "That was quite close."

"Yes it was." The lady knight nodded, gazing down at her. "When will you tell them?"

"Whenever the urge strikes." Guinevere smirked, causing Brienne to stifle a laugh.

"Who are you?" A voice asked, causing Guinevere to turn around.

A gasp escaped her, her hands flying up to her mouth. In front of her stood Lyanna's mini-me. Shaking her head, she let her hands fall to her sides. "I am Guinevere Stark, and you are?"

"Arya Stark." The girl said, looking at Guinevere curiously. "You are Aunt Guinevere?"

"I am." She was surprised when the girl hugged her. Her arms wrapped around the girl, who was barely two heads shorter than her. "It is lovely to meet you, Arya."

"Father has told us stories of you. Did you really hit Uncle Benjen for taking your toy?"

"I did, yes." She laughed, shaking her head. "But to be fair, it was my favorite toy."

Arya beamed up at her before releasing her hold on Guinevere. "You are cool."

"Thank you."

"Arya, who are you speaking to?" A voice said, and Guinevere looked up to see a boy with thick auburn hair and deep blue eyes.

"This is Aunt Guinevere." Arya informed him. "This is my brother Bran." She smiled at her aunt before pointing behind Bran. "That is Robb, Sansa, Rickon and Jon."

Out of all of them, Jon was the one who looked the most like a Stark. "It is truly nice to meet all of you."

Each of them hugged her tightly before releasing her.

"You are so tiny." Robb commented.

"Hey!" She frowned, hands on her hips. "I am not tiny; I am merely…oh shut up." She grumbled, shaking her head as they all laughed at her. "I am at least three heads taller than the Imp."

"It still does not say much for your height, Aunt." Robb smiled.

Her grey eyes narrowed before she too laughed. Her gaze flickered to Rickon and she smiled warmly. "You are most adorable." The little boy held his arms up, a silent demand to be held. Guinevere lifted him up and hugged him to her chest.

"How old are you?" Arya asked.

"My Nineteenth name-day is coming up in just a few days." She rubbed her hand over Rickon's back, humming softly.

"You are so much younger than father." Arya said, shaking her head.

"How old are all of you?" They all rattled off their ages, and Guinevere shook her head. The eldest boys were roughly her age. "Wow." She handed Rickon quietly over to Sansa, seeing as the babe had fallen asleep.

"Who are you?" Arya asked her tone one of awe as she stared up at Brienne.

"She is Lady Brienne of Tarth, and the House of The Blue Rose." Guinevere replied. The boys shared a look before glancing at their aunt, both with curious looks on their faces. "She is my closest friend and most loyal friend." They both nodded.

"We are going to go practice with the swords, would you like to join us Lady Brienne?" Jon asked.

The lady knight glanced at Guinevere, and nodded when Guin nodded for her to go. "What will you do, my lady?"

"I thought I would practice with you." She caught Brienne's smirk as the boys stared at her as if she were crazy. "I am quite handy with a sword."

"I want to see!" Arya shouted excitedly.

Once they were all at the practice area, Brienne drew her sword and started to spar with Jon, both being careful not to actually wound the other.

Guinevere smiled sweetly at Robb, who in turn looked at her nervously. "Draw your sword, my darling." She drew her sword, and practice was on.

It lasted a few hours before they all stopped, covered in sweat and a bit of blood (just minor scratches), and panting for breath.

"A lady should not be handling a sword." An arrogant sounding voice said.

Guinevere lifted her head and her eyes instantly narrowed. "And why is that, Kingslayer?" She hissed.

"It is not a woman's place." Jaime replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Not a woman's place?" Guinevere asked, putting her sword away but keeping her hand on the pommel. "Then what is a woman's place, Ser?"

"A woman's place is at home, managing the home and birthing babes."

"Oh you sexist pig!" Guinevere shouted, ready to knock that arrogant look right off of his face.

"I would watch who you call names, my lady." He glanced her over. "Or is it Ser?"

Guinevere stepped up to him, tilting her head up to glare at him. "I can assure you that I am most definitely a woman."

His hand rest on her shoulder before slowing skimming down her arm and around to her back. Just before he could touch her bottom, she stomped on his foot and stormed away, leaving him in pain as her niece and nephews laughed.

"Oh, I loathe that man!" She shouted as she and Brienne entered the chambers they were to be staying at. They always shared a room, taking turns sleeping while the other stood guard. "So arrogant and sexist! Who in the seven hells does he think he is!?" She ripped off her tunic, tossing it on the floor.

"He is your betrothed, my lady." Brienne said.

"I will not marry that man!" She shouted as maid's came in with a bath filled with warm water so she could clean herself before the feast. She waved them all out before stripping completely and sliding into the bath. "How could they even suggest a marriage to that twat!?"

"Perhaps to merge your house's?"

"They can kiss my arse!" She scrubbed her skin clean before cleaning the dirt from her hair. "I wish to strangle him!" Never had someone riled her up that quickly.

"You should calm yourself, my lady. Unless you wish for someone to come and investigate all the shouting."

Guinevere looked at Brienne and heaved a sigh, dunking herself under the water once again before coming back up.

"Are you calm?"Brienne looked highly amused.

"I am just so happy you are amused by my anger, Brienne." Guinevere huffed before climbing out of the tub and putting on a robe.

_A/N: Next chapter is the feast!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

"Calm yourself my lady, I am almost done." Brienne sighed as Guinevere shifted in her seat.

"I detest having my hair styled." Guinevere sighed, slumping in her seat.

Brienne rolled her eyes and took out the style, deciding obviously to allow Guinevere to have her way.

"Thank you!" Guinevere laughed before standing and putting on her gown. It was a deep blue gown with sapphires sewn in near her breasts –the neck of the gown low enough that it bared her shoulders and allowed one a glimpse of her ample cleavage –she wore a metal chain about her hips and slid her sword through the chain, allowing it to hang at her hips. Her dark brown curly mane of hair flowing down her back and stopping just at her knees and her sapphire encrusted jeweled headdress –her grey eyes shown brilliantly.

"You look lovely, my lady." Brienne said, grabbing her deep blue cloak and pulling it on.

"As do you, Lady Brienne." Guinevere smiled, grabbing her grey cloak with the fur covered hood and slid it on. "I am ready, are you?"

"I am ready."

Both women left the chambers, making their way through the Stark home to the great hall. They found the king, queen, Lord and Lady Stark along with their children, and a new comer. She refused to glance in Ser Jaime's direction lest she lose her temper again.

"Guinevere, I would like to introduce you to my ward Theon Greyjoy." Ned said, smiling.

Guinevere smiled at Theon, before it dropped into a frown as she felt his eyes raking over her form. "My eyes are up here." She snapped, scowling at him when he looked at her face. "Men." She scoffed, shaking her head before glancing around the hall. "Where is Jon?"

"He is not joining us this evening." Lady Stark said in a slightly chilled tone.

"Why not?"

"He is a bastard."

Guinevere stared at her, a brow raised. "He is family." She said simply. The doors opened and everyone walked inside, all but Guinevere and Brienne. "I am going to get my nephew." She informed the lady knight before leaving the hall. She heard the sounds of someone beating a sword against something, and she discovered that it was Jon. "Nephew, you must come eat."

"Lady Stark says I cannot."

"Forget what she says. You are family; it matters not if you are not her child." She grasped his hand after grabbing the sword and pulling him along with her, despite his protests. She would be damned if Catelyn pushed him aside and left him out of family affairs. As far as Guinevere was concerned, Jon was more a Stark than Catelyn ever would be.

"Really I shouldn't-"

"Hush, boy." She commanded. "Square your shoulders and walk in there proudly." She watched with a smile as he nodded hesitantly, doing as she said. She held her arm out and together they walked into the feast with Brienne silently following.

Her eyes met Catelyn's, who was glaring at the pair angrily. She then glanced at her brother who had pride shining in his eyes. She gave him a smile before she and Jon sat at the table with the Stark children and Theon. She found herself sitting beside Jon and Robb.

"I thought mother said you could not come." Arya said, confused.

"Aunt Guinevere forced me to." Jon said quietly.

"You are family." Guinevere said simply, shrugging as she began to eat. She did not miss the grateful looks the children gave her, causing her lips to curve into a smile.

Everyone was having a great time; the eldest kids drank plenty of wine. When music started playing, they all got up to dance. Guinevere danced with her eldest nephews for most of the evening, laughing and just having a good time. Robb had to leave to escort Arya to bed after the young girl had thrown food at Sansa –it took all of Guinevere's power to not laugh.

"Are you enjoying your time, Lady Guinevere?" Theon asked, though his words were slurred and he was much too close for her liking.

"I am." She said, dancing away from him. Her eyes narrowed as he grasped her arm and pulled her back to him, very close to his body. She could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath, making her want to vomit. "Let go of me." She said calmly.

"Dance with me." His arms slithered around her, holding her so close she could feel _all _of him pressed against her.

She shook her head. "Let me go now." She shoved at his chest.

"Let the lady go." She heard that arrogant voice from earlier –Ser Jaime –shout.

"The lady wants to dance, right?" Theon's hold tightened.

Guinevere took a deep breath before managing to free her hand. Balling her hand into a fist, she let it fly for the boys face –he was much too slow to move away. He fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, and Guinevere moved her fingers, not wincing even as it ached badly. "A man should never underestimate a lady's strength." She then turned, facing the table where the Royal's and her family sat. "A man should also listen when a lady says no."

"A lady should not fight." The queen commented.

"Should I have allowed him to just have his way with me?" She was aware of it being extremely quiet in the room, and that no one moved to help Theon.

"Better than to start a scene." Cersei said, a brow rose.

"If I remember correctly, your grace, it was your brother that caused the scene. He is the one who shouted."

"You dare blame that on my brother?" Cersei looked very angry.

"No your grace. All I said was that your brother is the one who shouted –had he not, perhaps it would not have escalated." Guinevere said calmly.

Jaime was looking at her with a look of shock and even a bit of anger on his face.

"I will retire to my chambers. I am sorry to have ruined your evening." She curtsied before exiting the room, ignoring the shouting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Jaime waited with the royal family and the Stark's out in the hall, all patiently waiting for Lady Guinevere Stark. The mere thought of the small woman brought a smirk to Jaime's face. When he had seen her outside sword fighting with the Stark heir earlier, he instantly knew who she was. Everyone in Westeros knew who she was. He had never personally met her before but he had heard of her, had heard of her beauty –and her temper. Oh did she have a temper. His foot still ached from wear she'd stomped on it earlier.

The sound of footsteps approaching caused him to turn, as did everyone else. As soon as she appeared, Jaime felt as if someone had knocked the breath clear out of him. The tiny woman who was dressed in men's clothing that hid her figure earlier now transformed into a very _beautiful _creature. Her long dark curly hair was down; falling almost to her knees, her pale skin practically glowed. The royal blue dress she wore hugged her curves, allowing him to see the wide set of her hips and the shoulder baring neckline allowed him a small peak of cleavage. She was…much more beautiful than any woman he'd seen.

Hearing her speaking, Jaime fought a smile as her soft raspy voice remained calm even when she was clearly angry. Anyone could look into those eyes of hers and see the fire that burned inside.

Everyone walked inside, Jaime having no choice but to follow. He walked in and took his place, his eyes flickering around for the young beauty –a moment of almost panic hit him when he realized she hadn't walked in, but then he saw her walk in with the Stark bastard. A smirk curved his lips at her act of defiance to Lady Stark. Guinevere Stark was a feisty woman.

As the evening progressed, Jaime found his gaze resting on her more often than not. Sipping his wine, he stood and walked over to where King Robert, Lord Tywin and Ned Stark were gathered, all speaking quietly.

"They will be married." Tywin muttered.

"If Guinevere consents, yes." Ned nodded.

So they were trying to marry off Guinevere? A frown crossed his face at the thought of someone actually taming that beauty.

"She has no choice." Tywin hissed.

"Guin is not one to follow orders, you and I and all of the seven kingdoms know this." King Robert scrubbed a hand over his face.

Tywin sighed before nodding. It was then that all three turned to see Jaime.

"You're marrying her off?"

"That's none of your business, Kingslayer."

Jaime barely held back the urge to roll his eyes at that. "Does she know?"

"She does know. She said she would think about it." The King said.

"And who is it you're trying to marry her off to?" Jaime asked, but before anyone could answer, they all could hear Guinevere telling someone to let go. As he turned his head, he noticed it was the Greyjoy boy. A flash of pure murderous anger hit Jaime at the sight of the boy manhandling her. "Let the lady go!" Jaime commanded; hand on the hilt of his sword.

The boy slurred his speech, grip tightening on her so much that Jaime was sure she'd have bruises come the morning.

It happened so quickly that Jaime wasn't sure what had happened until after. Guinevere got her hand free and punched Greyjoy in the face and sent the drunken boy to the ground. A surge of pride came over him and he didn't know why.

After arguing, Guinevere bid everyone a goodnight and left quickly, the Lady Knight Brienne following her obediently.

Jaime turned and raised a brow. "He should have kept his hands to himself." And took a sip of wine before bidding everyone a goodnight and taking off for his chambers.

He stripped out of his clothing, letting it all fall to the floor as he lay in bed, hands crossed behind his head as he stared up at the stone ceiling, mind on the young woman.

She certainly wasn't the kind of woman Jaime would have even looked at. She was much shorter than he liked, almost a foot and a half shorter than he. Her temper was much too fierce and she was not the delicate lady much like the women in the South or even here in the North. He suspected that that was the Lady Knight's doing.

Guinevere Stark wasn't typically his type but Jaime didn't give a damn. Too bad he was in the Kingsguard, he would have already married and bedded her by now.


End file.
